


Wanting

by EmmmaMmmm



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: First Time, Holding Hands, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, POV Andrew Minyard, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Sexual Content, Sort Of, not explicit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:06:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26568523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmmaMmmm/pseuds/EmmmaMmmm
Summary: Andrew reflects on his relationship with Neil.
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Kudos: 111





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

> God, I cannot write explicit sex, I don't know what to tell you. This is about as explicit as I can get and even this isn't that explicit. So it's rated mature? But I'm not entirely sure about it.
> 
> Some brief references to past r*pe/non-con, a little bit of explicit language, implied references to past child abuse. I wasn't sure how to tag them but they're listed here anyway if that might trigger anyone.

The breaths shared between their lips were hot and wet. It was deep gasps, torn from their mouths without permission, and closed eyes to savour the moment. It was feeling the body heat radiating off of each other, from their foreheads resting just inches apart, their noses brushing with every breath, their chests expanding and compressing and almost touching.

Andrew opened his eyes. Without Neil to notice, he could stare without inhibition at him and acknowledge the fact that he was undeniably beautiful. It wasn't just the piercing eyes, or the auburn hair, or the nose that always looked like a button that Andrew could press for an effect. It was in the scars dotted across his skin, the proof that he had been through some shit but that somehow he was still here and trusting Andrew with his inexperience, trusting that Andrew wouldn't fuck him up too badly. It was a trust that Andrew wasn't even sure he could afford himself.

Neil took one last hot breath before he opened his eyes too and leaned away, giving Andrew space that he hadn't asked for but was grateful for nonetheless. Blue met hazel and he wanted to burn, wanted the fire in his chest to eat him from the inside out. He wanted more than he'd ever been allowed to want, more than he ever thought he could want, more than he thought he'd ever want again.

"Andrew." Neil said his name like a prayer, like he was submitting himself to worship at Andrew's feet for the rest of his life. Some days, Neil thought he would. Most days, Neil thought he might want that too. "You?"

He tilted his head. Sometimes when they messed around, there was a voice in his head screaming at him to _stay aware_ , _don't lose control_ , and _don't let him make you vulnerable_. But here, all he could think was _Neil Neil Neil_ and _more more more_. Andrew lifted his hand, waiting for a moment with his palm splayed until Neil mirrored the movement.

He moved his hand forward, fingertips brushing against Neil's. He felt fingerprints beneath him, felt the quiver of Neil's hand as he was coming down from the high. He took note of the way their hands fit so perfectly against each other, how the dips and curves of Andrew's hand bent perfectly to accommodate the dips of curves of Neil's. Then he tilted his hand, slotted his fingers between Neil's and they were holding hands.

Andrew heard the choked breath from between Neil's lips, and wondered at the desperation in it. He allowed himself to just hold Neil's hand for a moment, then he tugged it towards him, resting it on his chest and then lowering it, slowly, slowly, slowly. Neil's fingertips brushed the waistband of his sweatpants and he made as if to pull away.

"It's a yes for me," he said, and for once he hoped that Neil could hear how wrecked it was, how affected he was by Neil's mere presence. "If it's a yes for you."

Neil eyed him with befuddled awe, a strange mixture that said _I don't understand you_ and _I would follow you anywhere_ and Andrew felt any resolve he still had to push Neil away shatter. Neil nodded, and Andrew pushed at Neil's hand again, sliding it down past his sweatpants and his boxers, until it was exactly where he wanted it.

Wanting was so new for him. He had wanted Cass, had wanted to get away from Jesse and Samuel and Steven and Drake so badly it had hurt him some days. To be fair, wanting Neil hurt just as much, but in a completely different way. A completely new way. Wanting before had been sharp stabbing pain, had been aches that he could never forget, had been gasping for breath and being unable to hear the word _whore_ or _please_ without the nausea rising up in his throat. Wanting Neil was the breath they shared after getting off, the hickeys left along his thighs and chest that Andrew prayed nobody else would ever see because they weren't for everyone else, was _yes or no?_ and _I hate you_ and an increasing percentage that was starting to mean something completely different.

With Roland, it was an experiment that had never gotten to this point; Andrew had never gotten past getting Roland off and pushing him out of the room to finish himself off, but with Neil he wanted to stay, wanted to chase his own pleasure and have Neil understand that he was okay because it was him, that it was okay because Neil would back off the minute it wasn't okay.

Neil had confessed, as they shared breaths across the pillow the first time they'd shared a bed, that his father didn't like Neil touching him, that it had only ever led to punishment. He told him how in Baltimore, his father had threatened to gouge out his eyeballs for an accidental touch. Neil had told him that it was the reason he didn't touch Andrew without permission (or at least one of them) and asked him if that was alright. He'd asked if Andrew was okay with his trauma, and Andrew had hurt again because this wonderful, marvellous boy was in his bed and sharing a truth that nobody else would ever be afforded and for the first time he could remember, he was wanting without any sort of negative consequence.

He'd shut him up with a kiss, he'd pushed him away with a promise to let him return, and he'd let Neil talk for as long as he needed until the words slurred together and Neil was falling asleep where he lay beside Andrew. He'd wanted then too, and he wanted now, and he thought he might be okay with that.

Because he came undone with a flick of Neil's wrist, and he waited for the need to push him away to bubble up inside him but it didn't come. Not straight away. After a moment, with Neil's hands off of him and no physical contact, Andrew felt the shame sink in, the feeling of horror. But Neil's eyes looked into his and he thought that maybe this was what people meant when they said happiness.


End file.
